


Swans In The Pond

by gilligankane



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-07
Updated: 2010-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We could do something with ducks,” Brittany says, turning the pages of her science book noisily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swans In The Pond

**DENIAL**

She kisses Brittany, the first time, because she needs something to distract her; to let her loose from her reality and Brittany is the only person that she knows who won’t think twice to kiss back. Brittany is the only person she knows who won’t try to analyze it, or hit her, or read into it. It’s a kiss; nothing more, nothing less.

That Brittany is good at it is a bonus.

 _Of course she’s good at it_ , Quinn says in the back of her head.  _She’s probably done this more that I have_.  _With Santana, at least_ , she continues, her hands moving on their own, sliding around the back of Brittany’s neck, pulling her closer, because this is nice and soft and warm and Brittany’s hands are running up and down her arms, so light that Quinn thinks she might be dreaming.  _And Mike, and Scott and…_

She stops going through the mental list in her head and gasps, because Brittany is sliding her tongue between Quinn’s lips, sucking gently and it’s what she needs; the dreamlike quality, the possibility that none of this is real and there’s not some… _thing_  growing inside of her and she’s still dating the quarterback of the worst football team in Ohio and he didn’t join Glee, because there are social standards that you just don’t cross and her life isn’t some terrible Teen Movie, and she’s only kissing Brittany because that’s what girls do, to practice.

Even if none of that is true – even if she’s pregnant and her boyfriend has joined Glee and she’s kissing Brittany because there’s no one else to kiss – she’s going to pretend that everything is fine and that she’s okay.

Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, and if Brittany – with her hands and her mouth and her smile – can make her forget, then denial is the best thing she’s heard of in a while.

**ANGER**

Her plans – to make Finn the father and leave Puck in the dust of this stupid town – are shattered into pieces and it’s all because of Rachel Berry.

It’s because Rachel Berry can’t let her have one minute to breath and take stock of her life. No, she has to go and ruin everything, ruin everyone, taking Quinn’s carefully constructed lies and exposing them; letting the sun hit them so they burn.

“Quinn, are you-”

She doesn’t let Brittany finish her sentence because  _no_ , she’s  _not_  okay. Nothing is okay and she’s so tired of hearing that question – “ _Quinn, are you okay? It’s not the baby, is it?_ ” – that she just can’t hear it once more; not from Brittany.

So she doesn’t let Brittany ask her. She surges forward and grabs the back of Brittany’s neck and pulls her forward violently – not gently, not wearily, like the last time, when it was more of a tug than a pull – and cuts her off, pushing her back against the bathroom they’re in, moving her hands abruptly to Brittany’s skirt. Brittany’s head drops against the metal behind her, but Quinn doesn’t pay attention to the curve of Brittany’s neck or her half-lidded eyes; she’s too busy biting down on Brittany’s collarbone, sliding her hand past red spankies and pushing in without so much as a warning.

Brittany’s body tenses around her fingers and Quinn knows she should do something – like maybe kiss Brittany, on the mouth – but she’s too angry and there’s too much red and Brittany’s hands around Quinn’s shoulders aren’t squeezing like she’s resisting, so Quinn buries her face in Brittany’s shoulder and pushes harder, deeper, faster, just needing to feel something in her control.

Brittany’s body moves with her thrusts and blond hair slides across Quinn’s face and Brittany tries to find Quinn’s chin, succeeds, but when she pulls Quinn in for a kiss, Quinn pushes hard, ignoring the pressure building in her wrist and leans forward for Brittany’s neck instead.

She’s too angry. There’s too much red. She needs control.

She won’t let Brittany kiss her on the mouth – where she wants to be kissed, even if she dodges Brittany’s advances – but it doesn’t stop the taller blond from kissing her on the forehead when Quinn finally pulls away, wiping her hands on her blue dress.

**BARGAINING**

Apologies don’t come easy to her; they never have.

Apologizing to Brittany doesn’t come easy to her, even when it should, even when she wants it to. Instead, she takes hallways she usually avoided and talks to kids she never even knew before and arrives at Glee late and leaves early.

Every time she looks at Brittany, there’s a surge of guilt and shame and it doesn’t help that Brittany smiles and waves and tries to be friends with her.

It should be easy to just say “ _I’m sorry_ ” but the words get stuck in the back of her throat and she thinks that she’s fine on her own, without anyone but Puck who lags behind her like the puppy who won’t go home.

After two weeks, she starts to get desperate and she can feel herself falling apart again, the adrenaline of the anger wearing off.

Brittany is where she always seems to be, which is right where Quinn needs her, when Quinn needs her.

“I’m sorry,” she says, over and over again, her words muffled in the fabric of Brittany’s uniform. “I’m sorry.”

Brittany smoothes back her hair and tilts her chin up and kisses her softly, like the first time, and then a little harder. “It’s okay,” she says against Quinn’s mouth, pursing her lips again. “It’s going to be okay.”

She needs someone in her corner. She needs someone who can hold her and tell her it’s going to be okay – someone who she actually believes. She needs  _someone_  and she wants Brittany and she’ll do anything.

She says as much.

Brittany laughs a little; not a mean laugh, just a little laugh that Quinn doesn’t understand.

She lifts up on her knees, the comforter of her sister’s guest bedroom bunching underneath her bare skin and grabs Brittany’s face in both of her hands. “No, I  _need_  you.”

Brittany nods, but Quinn can’t take the chance that she doesn’t understand.

“I’ll do anything. I promise. I’ll so whatever you want me to. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Don’t leave me. Please,” she begs, biting her bottom lip, because she  _can’t_ cry. “I’ll do anything,  _please_.”

“Quinn-”

“I  _need_  you,” she says hoarsely, her voice breaking. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything.”

 _I need you._  Brittany kisses her gently.

 _Please don’t leave me_. Brittany kisses her again.

 _I’ll do anything._  Brittany hugs her, tight, and doesn’t let her go.

**DEPRESSION**

The baby is gone and now Quinn is really alone.

No Finn, no Puck, no baby – it’s almost like it’s punishment for all her sins: for premarital sex and lying and kissing girls when she should pray.

She knew what she was doing; knew it was for the best.

She’s a teenager and she’s too young to raise a baby by herself – because she’s by herself now – and it was the right thing to do. Under all of the pain and loneliness, it was the right thing to do; for herself, for her daughter with Puck’s eyes.

Just because it was the right thing to do doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

It’s been days since she’s gotten out of bed to do anything more than shower. Her sister has stopped knocking at the door and Puck has stopped calling and no one has bothered to come see if she’s alive or not. She likes it that way.

It’s what she deserves.

She almost doesn’t notice when the door opens, because she’s fallen into another trance – the kind she has where half the day goes by and she hasn’t moved, again – so when the bed dips, she almost screams.

Almost, until she sees blond hair and familiar hands are wrapping around her waist, sliding across her rib cage and pulling her across the sheets into a warm body.

The baby is gone and now Quinn is really alone, except for Brittany.

“You said you weren’t going to do this,” Brittany whispers. It’s a whisper, but in the quiet of the room it sounds like an explosion; like a bomb going off in a small space. “You promised you would come back to school and back to Glee.”  _And back to me_  hangs awkwardly between them.

Quinn shrugs. “Changed my mind.”

“You promised me.”

“I promised God I’d be a virgin until I got married, too,” she says dully, not letting her body collapse into Brittany’s the way it’s pleading to. “See how well that turned out.”

“You promised  _me_.”

She rolls onto her side and looks up at Brittany, staring at eyes that wide and blue and shining. She blinks a few times and keeps staring at Brittany, silently asking what the other girl wants from her.

“You made a promise,” Brittany says again, even quieter than before. “To  _me_.”

Quinn blinks again. “I made a lot of promises, to a lot of people. What makes you think you’re more important than they are?”

Brittany, because she kind and good and obviously sees something in Quinn that no one else – especially not Quinn herself – can see, only frowns for a second, blinks hard – to push back the tears Quinn can see at the corners of her eyes – and wraps her arm around Quinn’s shoulder, tightening it around her neck.

“You’re just saying that because you’re angry.”

Quinn scoffs. “I’m saying that because it’s the truth.”

Brittany shakes her head so softly Quinn isn’t sure she actually did it. “One day, you’re going to regret saying that. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday.”

“Brittany, just-”

“And when that day comes,” Brittany says over her, still speaking softly, “I’ll be right here, and you can say you’re sorry, and I’ll forgive you.” Cool lips pass over her forehead. “They’ll all forgive you.”

Quinn’s not sure that’s true, but she’s sure she shouldn’t say anything about it.

She doesn’t have the energy to argue anyway.

**ACCEPTANCE**

Brittany was right; they forgive her, eventually.

Finn forgives her first, stopping her in the hallway and hugging her awkwardly, his big frame making her feel small. He almost lifts her off her feet and whispers in her “ _I’m sorry_ ” like he’s the one who made a mistake.

Puck takes a little longer, mostly because he’s still angry that she gave the baby up without talking to him about it, but when he stops being resentful, he starts giving her small smiles in the hallways and he lets her sit next to him at lunch even if she’s intruding on his lunch date with Santana.

Glee takes her back immediately, and everything falls into place.

“I’ve treated you so bad,” she says on night, sitting in the window of her room at her sister’s house. Brittany, lounging on the bed, doesn’t tell her she’s wrong, but she doesn’t tell her she’s right either, just props herself up on her elbows and stares at Quinn, silently telling her she can keep talking. “I was terrible to you.”

She’s not sure what else to say, but Brittany must see that, because she’s rolling off her elbows onto her stomach, kicking her legs up behind her. “I told you one day you were going to apologize.”

Quinn pushes off the windowsill and kneels by her bed. “How could that be enough for you?”

Brittany shrugs and the left side of her mouth quirks up. “You’re worth it, even when you didn’t think so. Even when you didn’t think I was,” she says softly.

She’s said  _sorry_  too many times in this relationship. She’s always apologizing and one day, it’s not going to be enough anymore. She knows that, so she doesn’t say it this time, because she’s saying her sorry’s for a rainy day when she’ll  _really_  need them.

Instead, she rocks forward on her knees and reaches one hand around the back of Brittany’s neck and guides her forward, pressing their foreheads together.

“I love you,” she whispers, so softly she’s afraid that Brittany won’t hear her over the pounding in Quinn’s chest – which is her heart, trying to beat its way out of her body – but Brittany smiles wide and bright and she doesn’t even have to say it back; Quinn can read what she wants to know in Brittany’s smile.

It sounds so cheesy, when she says it to herself like that, but Brittany is lifting the bottom half of her face and catching Quinn’s bottom lip and it’s not so bad when  _this_  is what she gets in return.

“I know,” Brittany whispers back, breaking the kiss to slide off the bed, dropping onto Quinn’s lap gracefully, wrapping her arms around Quinn’s neck. “I know you do.”

She gave up her social life – which doesn’t bother her as much as she thought it would.

She gave up her daughter – it still stings sometimes, in the morning, when Brittany isn’t there and she’s hugging a cold pillow, and it takes her a few lonely mornings of crying before she can wake up and pretend that the ache in her chest isn’t as bad as it is.

She gave up  _the_  guy.

She got the girl instead, which is the best trade-off she could ever think of, and when she wakes up on the mornings that Brittany  _is_  there, it’s almost like her life is okay again, and even if she went through all these things – the pregnancy and the crying and the nights spent wondering if she was better off dead than alive – are just stepping stones, or whatever all the self-help books call them.

Quinn calls them mistakes.

They’re mistakes that made her better – or worse, she hasn’t decided yet – and all her mistakes have brought her to her to her room at her sister’s house, her knees pressed into the cheap carpeting, hovering over Brittany, both of them watching Quinn’s hand trace an invisible line from Brittany’s shoulder, down the middle of her stomach and lingering on her hipbone.

She doesn’t like making mistakes, but if it was her mistakes that led her here – slipping her hand down and up while Brittany’s back arches off the floor – then she would probably make them all over again, every single one of them.


End file.
